


Passions and Wagers

by eloracooper4



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, M/M, Moral Lessons, Past Relationship(s), Suggested Sex, Trojan War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloracooper4/pseuds/eloracooper4
Summary: Andromache and Quynh react to their latest dream about the elusive Yusuf and Nicolo.  A dream that reminds Andromache of the power and the danger of love.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, pre-Andy/Quynh
Comments: 1
Kudos: 62





	Passions and Wagers

Andromache woke with a start. Her hands clasped at her chest while her laboring breath attempted to steady. 

“ ‘Dromeche?” She heard Quynh ask, yet her companion seemed so far away. 

Although the actual dream had faded, she still felt and saw them. The desperate touches as if they had been starving for one another. The sweat dripping down their foreheads. From their bare backs. The echoes of pleasure swimming through their bodies. Grunts and gasps. Afterwards, tears gathered in both of their eyes as they lay chest to chest. Hands to cheek, lips to lips. 

“That surely took long enough!” Andromache turned to see Quynh stretch up her arms as if she was the one who had just recovered from passionate love making. Though that mischievous smile was firmly planted on her own lips. “I was starting to wonder if we would have to beg them to go at it when we finally meet them.” 

It had been over a year since Andromache and Quynh had first dreamed of the two warriors. The Frank and the Maghrebi first killed one another in the idiotic Crusade that Pope Urban II began. Andromache had taught Quynh many years ago to avoid religious wars. They usually ended in total massacres, and that was definitely the case for their two new immortal warriors. At first, watching the two of them kill one another repeatedly was humorous. Andromache and Quynh would wake up in peels of laughter. Quynh offered a bet that they would kill one another at least twenty times before they understood their new gifts. When they put down their swords after nineteen kills, Quynh swore that she would never forgive them for losing that gold for her. 

Yes, it was just fun at first. The women would check in with the “boys,” they started calling them before they learned that their names were Yusuf and Nicolo, from their daily dreams. And they were just that. They were boys. Learning about their abilities, and trying to survive in a hostile landscape for both “the murderous invader” and “the cowardly defector.” Then, slowly, they changed. They fought together. They stayed together at all times. Not just in battle, but in the market. In their makeshift homes. They even began sleeping closer to each other than the fire that they built to ward off the cold. 

Quynh would giggle now for a different reason after her dreams. She would ask questions and probe to see if Andromache and herself could partake in a new bet about their boys. But Andromache didn’t bite this time. She told Quynh she had enough of her money. That she would penniless soon with her poorly made wagers. She had said something like that. Anything to avoid thinking about what they may become. And who they would remind her of.

Quynh chuckled at a thought. “Though I wonder...how do two men who love one another fight...?” She asked hesitantly.

“Hmm?” Andromache asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and pushing herself up to standing. She kicked sand over the last of their night fire which was slowly fading without her assistance. “I think we’ve seen quite a lot of their fighting already. They’ve proven themselves.”

Quynh nodded, and then picked her words carefully as she said, “Yes, well. Now that they...are together. Perhaps it will impact their fighting? Make them...weaker? A local boy in my village was ridiculed for his weakness more than his interest in other men. Though, he was laughed at for that as well. Passerbys would always point and laugh...”

Andromache turned to Quynh. “It will impact their fighting. But not in that way. It will make them even more dangerous.”

“More dangerous?” Quynh laughed in disbelief. “How could they be when they’re-”

With that, Andromache turned and walked away from Quynh without a word. In fact, she only offered a snort of derision. Sometimes Andromache forgot that Quynh was just a baby compared to her. Sure, they spent centuries together, fighting at one another’s side. Yet, she wasn’t alive when Andromache watched the sacking of Brittons, the violence of the Visigoths, or the fall of Troy. Above all, the fall of Troy. 

“Andromache!” Quynh called out racing after her. “Did I upset you? I didn’t mean to...I am sure that they will be great additions to our company. I didn’t mean to diminish-”

“No, you couldn’t know,” Andromache commented, catching the concern in Quynh’s eyes. This wasn’t fair. Lykon had always said that when Andromache didn’t want to talk about a subject, she turned into an angry hedgehog curling into a ball and only showing her spikes. Looking back on it, she knew he was right. It wasn’t fair to Quynh. Not the little ray of sunshine that could slit a man’s throat without blinking. Her friend. Her companion. It was only fair that she know...just a small part of what was haunting her.

After a moment’s pause, she explained, “Back...before I met you. Long before. Someone that I loved died because of men like them....losing him was...unthinkable.”

Andromache. She could barely remember his face anymore, but she remembered the way he said her name. How his deep voice made her shiver. His lips on her neck, pressing into a small scar. A scar that he gave her while the two of them battled one another. Andromache had challenged him for the right to her own hand in marriage. They battled for hours with no clear winner. It was truly a draw, but she ultimately gave into her mother’s wish. If she would marry any man, she could marry and even love one as Hector. A fine warrior with strong arms and a warm embrace that she would lose herself in. 

I fear...that I have made a grave error. From the ledges of Troy, Andromache watched her husband battle the mighty Achilles. The Greek that was said to be singularly blessed by the gods, yet her Hector had cut him down. Patroclus. He wore Achilles’ armor, and I killed him. 

If only she could forget the sight of her husband’s body being dragged in the sand. His ankles attached to Achilles’ chariot as the Greek warrior paraded his dead corpse. All because Hector mistakenly killed Achilles’ beloved. Her husband could have killed any other man. Achilles himself, but not Patroclus.

Andromache could barely hear the sounds of triumph from the Greeks over her own shrieks of despair. The shrieks that were soon mimicked by Astyanax, their infant son. She would live for another ten years after the fall of Troy until she experienced her own first death. Neoptolemus was tired of her rebellion. Her refusal to act the slave and concubine that she was required to be as a spoil of the war. And all of this, all of her first life’s misery was caused by the love between two men.

She felt a hesitant hand on her shoulder.“ ‘Dromache. I...I haven’t really heard you talk about your past like that before...I’m sorry I made you remember something...painful.”

Andromache absently brushed away a tear that had fallen from her eye. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought of him...of them in...ages.” She looked into Quynh’s still sympathetic, concerned eyes and finally felt her tense body release. Quynh always had that effect on her. She could make her laugh, calm her fears, or even assuage her rage with only a touch or only a smile. After so many years alone, her presence in Andromache’s life was enough to make her believe in a god again. 

Her hand raised to cup Quynh’s face. The younger woman leaned into it with a gentle smile on her lips. “We can’t look too far back into our pasts. We can only learn from it and move on. And I learned from it. Love is powerful. It’s...” There was hope in Quynh’s eyes then that she didn’t recognize until much later, “It’s dangerous. And we’ll just have to teach them to harness their passion.” 

They would learn from Achilles and Patroclus. They would train Yusuf and Nicolo side by side; they would encourage their love, their strategy, and their restraint.

And what was there to learn from Hector? Astyanax? Even Lykon?

“Maybe we won’t let them have sex until they prove themselves...” Quynh offered now returning back to their camp. She called over her shoulder, “We can make a bet on who tries to sneak into whose bed roll first. My bet’s on Nicolo. It’s always the quiet ones that are mad for it.”

Andromache chuckled, shaking her head. “No more bets! You’ll be a bad role model for the boys.”

When they had finally met Yusuf and Nicolo months later, they did what they planned. They trained, they taught, and they grew as a family. The boys’ passion for one another was clear, but so was their emerging control. And Andromache recognized that there possibly was something to learn from Hector. Astyanax Lykon. 

That sometimes, the promise of passion and love was worth gambling with control.

She saw the hope in Quynh’s eyes and understood.

It was hope that she happily gave into.

**Author's Note:**

> I might want to expand upon this one of these days. Let me know what you think. And yes, all that Andromache remembered from her past happened in epic poem, the Iliad, and the play, the Women of Troy. Except that bit of her fighting Hector which was inspired by other Greek tales and a little bit of Brave. Not going to lie! I also hope I did a little justice to the Andy/Quynh shippers out there. Pre-drowning Quynh was fun to write. I like to believe that she was fun based on their small interactions in the movie. Hope you enjoyed. <3


End file.
